


Obvious Child

by Dansmapropretete



Series: I Wish I Was in Love (but I Don't Want to Cause Any Pain) [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:46:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dansmapropretete/pseuds/Dansmapropretete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of smut, if it pleases you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obvious Child

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kanjogirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanjogirl/gifts).



> For kanjogirl, and one of my new favorite pairings.

They stood facing each other in the dark, the wind blowing in her ear, rendering her deaf and breathless. The city sounds, honking and screeching in the dark. The conversation seemed to be over, but he lingered, his lithe, well-toned body shrouded in darkness. They weren’t too far apart now, now that she had caught his vibrating face, and placed a kiss on her lips. He seemed stunned, fastest man on earth, and he hadn’t been quick enough to stop her. Good.

“Thanks,” she said, her eyes flickering up to his blurring face.

She was picked up and thrown just for a moment into a stir, before settling back again. Indoors, in a pitch black somewhere.

"Close your eyes," he said, his voice still reverberating, and she did as told.

"Where are w--" she was quickly cut off by his lips on hers. His skin was eerily smooth, and he smelled warm like light sweat and soap. The hood was off and her fingers found the nape of his neck. Cropped, soft hair. Fingers trailed up, more volume on top. He was young, that was a young man’s haircut. But was it blond? Brown? Red? That would be too much red. Her body melted inexplicably well with his. Their hips aligned and--

"You can't open them," he insisted.

"Please," Was she begging already? Already? When he'd only just gotten her. While she wondered how overzealous her pleading sounded to his ears, Barry quietly rejoiced. Why hadn't he thought of this before? Elusive, unavailable, concise, this was who had to be to be seen by her, wasn't it? This was suddenly everything he wanted. His hands left her waist and slid down her underwear and tossed them aside, his lips never leaving hers.

"Do we have to be quick?" she asked breathlessly, her chin still poised.

"No," he said, his long, thick fingers finding her clit. She emitted a small noise, and she was slick, his digits just slid right through. "We've got time."

"Then what's the-- oh! Hurry?" she was suddenly nudged onto the bed. It felt like a well-slept-in bed. Unmade, with soft blankets that smelled freshly laundered, something familiar to her eager senses.

He made a point of slowly undoing the buttons down the front of her dress. One by one.

"No hurry. I just want to see you, see you when you-- when you're like this," he stumbled out as her bra came undone and her chest was exposed.

Her hands reached out and she raised up on her knees slowly. Her tongue danced figure eights on his ear. "Well, you're not just gonna leave me like this, are you?" she husked between licks.

He drew away from her, and Iris thought for just a minute that he would. But she then heard the sound of the zipper tearing the fabric away from his shadowed form.

He picked her up again and her legs gripped tight around his waist, his erection pressed into her stomach. He spun her around in a quarter circle and he plopped back onto the springy bed with her in his lap. She raised up on her knees and kissed him hard. He pulled his lips away to kiss her breast with an exhale, deep and harried as the sound of rushing water. He then licked the pads of three fingers and guided them over her well-soaked sex.

He took himself in his hand and glided his dick into her, and she sighed deep. With her eyes still closed, she was left to only imagine now, what it looked like, what they looked like, strangers rutting around in the dark. God, she'd wanted this, dreamed about it in a close to the chest kind of way.

The moment was swelling, grinding in hard, short spurts down on his lap as she was. Her eyes still closed and it wouldn't do. It wouldn't do. It wouldn't do to be blind to this fleeting, fleeting thing. And she was so hot and she felt like he was just humoring her now. Fuck, fuck, her mouth open like her tongue had no place in it.

A lot of things ran through her mind then, as she stood right at the peak. Her old crushes, Eddie, of course he'd found his way into her head now, but he was quickly pushed aside. It was him and every infallible moment they had had together, and how everything had led to this, this perfect-- a small, or maybe not so small sound escaped her as his smooth thumbs pressed down into her hipbone, bringing her closer. First wave, nothing but a  nip at the shore, a lot of darkness still, no images. She sighed again, a second wave, a lot of heat, but still no pictures. Show me your goddamn face.

She didn't mean to. It was the fervor of the moment that made her do it. But she was wanting and it wouldn't do to not be able to see his face, whatever the hell he looked like. It happened so quickly. He moaned in pleasure and clenched. His mouth latched onto her high, rounded breasts, and she just unraveled. She opened her eyes in a restrained moment of restlessness, and her swollen lips were curved down. Eyes fell on him, on . . . Barry, and her whole body went into frantic confused spasms. Like a train suddenly derailed that wouldn't stop sliding along on its side, too much momentum.

"Ire--" he heaved.

Iris slumped, the steel rod that had once been her spine seeming to melt down into liquid. Her hips continued to move gently before slowing completely. He ran his open palm up her smooth solid back, hands rounded her shoulder blades, and her breast fell out of his mouth and he made a light, wet trail up her sternum, her neck.

She groaned, aftershocks still coursing through her. Everything that had been rigid, the fingers in his hair, the tightly curled toes. For a few seconds only, she was limp and lame, not a thought passing through her well-pleasured nervous system.

And when her senses did come back to her, she found this: he wasn't yet finished and his eager hands were meant to demonstrate that she was still very much wanted, needed.

“Iris.”

She opted to show him some mercy, tossed him back on the bed, and stood up on wobbly legs. She took him in her hand, a blank expression, still not looking him in the eyes, and he wanted to will her to look at him now, now that it was out, but he lost his voice when she gave him a gentle tug.

She didn’t stop there. Her thumb circled the curved, traced the frenulum. Harder on the upstroke, gentle coming back down.

"Oh," he sighed, biting his lip, "Iris, I'm gonna, oh, fuck. I can't-- I can't will you look at me? God, fuck, please."

A curtain of black hair fell from behind her ear and she tucked it back, shooting him a quick, coquettish look that he almost missed. But he didn't miss it, in fact he saw it and loved it and love makes your heart and other parts swell, and well, he came right in her hand.

Her face screwed up, and then she turned around, hair flying wildly, crouching down now and again for her dress. She sniffles occasionally

"I know it's not okay, and I know I should explain, but--"

"No, don't. Don't explain, let me go home and spend all night wondering," she replied mirthlessly.

"I wouldn't let you go home. Not now. There isn't anyway to do this right, but you deserve to know. I did it, because I wanted to protect you."

She took up the cup of pencils on his desk and hurled them right at his face nor caring about super speed. Instead of catching it, they all crashed into the wall and Barry was at the door when she spun around to leave.

"Who's protecting you? What are you doing? What are you trying to do?"

"You were more than happy to let me go when you didn't know who I was."

"Of course I was, Barry! Who do you think compares to you? Who do  you think matters to me more than you do? Nobody, nobody. It could have been anybody but you. Why did it have to be you?" she exclaimed, sobs lodged in her throat, stubbornly refusing to come out.

"I'm not gonna stop.” he insisted.  “It's all happened too fast now. I can't stop any of it, and I don’t want to. I don't want you to hate me."

"Well, I do hate you now,” she spat. “You lied to me, and to I don’t know who else, but--” her eyes went wide, and she licked her lips as though was preparing to scream, “Does my dad know about you, about what you are?” She shook her head. “Of course he does, what am I saying? Barry, I swear if anything happens to you--" she threatened.

"It won't. I can run faster than the speed of light, and my body heals so quickly that it can withstand near anything, fire, knives, bullets, anything."

They were both a little spent. "Show me," she said after a pregnant pause.

He chuckled, "How much time do you have?"

"Show me in here."

He reached into his desk drawer and retrieved a sharp, shining object.

"Watch." he put the thing to his forearm and winced as she did. The blood started to flow easily from him. From his closet he took out gauze and quickly wrapped the wound.

"Stick around for a few hours, and you'll see how fast it can heal."

"A few hours?” she jested. “But it still hurt, didn't it?" she asked soberly.

"Yeah."

They looked up into the bright stars in each others’ eyes. They blushed simultaneously as they realized where they were, what they had done.

"You're the Flash," she gasped

"I am," he confirmed, prideful.

“A superhero.”

“I am.”

"You and I just fucked. You came in my hand--"

"Okay!" he exclaimed throwing his hands up like they were talking baseball or one of the many other things that Iris teased him about. "I don't need a play by play."

Iris sat at the edge of his bed, and he flicked on the bedside lamp. They took good, long looks at one another. So this is how they’d changed since those first few awkward run-ins during their adolescence. The old bumps and scrapes had healed, and they were both just two fit, able-bodied adults.

She sat first with her legs crossed, then she spread them wide for him to see, only the thin underwear to cover herself."I don't think I've ever come that hard before. It was just the shock. First you were a masked stranger, then you were you, Barry. I couldn’t stop myself when I opened my eyes."

He blushed furiously.

"Are you going red?" she giggled.

He picked up the nearest lightweight thing at his feet, her dress maybe, and hurled it at her. "Don't tease! Is that really how you wanna thank the guy who gave you--"

"Don't you dare!" she warned.

"-- Your best sex ever?"

"Ugh! You smug jerk!" she said, tossing the garment back at him. The"You were like my brother, you know?"

"I know."

"Well, what's gonna happen to that now?"

"I have no idea."

She leaned back seductively, her hand curled on her stomach, inching lower by the second. She eyed him appreciatively from across the room. "Show me what else you can do."

He grinned, lay her down once more and discarded her lace undies with even more frustration and haste than before.

Her arms flew over her head, and the silky skin glowed from the streetlights outside.

He knelt down at her feet and wrapped his hands around her thighs. He pried them apart, and she grinned smugly.

"Now that you've got your voice back, what is it exactly that you wanted to say?"

He didn't reply but rather dove down cruelly. Hot breath on the soft insides of her thighs, Barry's breath and Barry's hands and everything felt good, better because it was him. He placed himself well under her knees, so his hands could move as they pleased, to her clit, her breasts, her flat stomach, the ribcage, her ass.

He spread her lips and latched his mouth onto her. She propped herself up on her elbows so she could watch. Maybe that was what she wanted. To watch, to see, and to perhaps be seen, as well.

His licks came short and long, darting quick, lingering. And as he did this, his hand kept smoothing over her thighs like he was counting time. It wasn’t gentle like she could have expected, or urgent, but the movements were well-practiced, and she silently found herself thanking all of his previous, unnamed lovers.

Iris fell back, her hands clutching at the sheets beneath her.

She had a good, human taste on Barry’s tongue, a bit bitter, and she was plenty. Barry lapped at her like they were trapped in the dog days of summer. His mouth lapped and sucked, and then he stopped.

"What?" she begged.

He slowly hovered back down, his mouth just on her clit.

"Fuck, Barry-- god. What are you doing to me?"

His hand slid away and he stuck two fingers inside of her. He dug deep, twisted his fingers, curved them as he pulled them out agonizingly slow.

Above him, her body was writhing this way and that. Her back arching off of the bed and her hands cupping her breasts, pinching her pebbled nipples.

Good, this was where he wanted her, right here--

"Ohh, ahh!" she cried out.

Barry had used his powers on her. The vibrations from his fingers, like the instruments she'd used on herself, but better, alive. And his tongue, too.

"Shit," she exhaled.

Barry was so good that Iris didn't know where she ended and he began, and in his bed, amongst his sheets and his scents, she came. The features on her face unraveling in the same way they had before.

He made his way slowly on hands and knees up her body. He came to rest at her side, and they stayed like that for a short while, not touching each other, but feeling the slow heat fly off their bodies.

A hum of somebody’s phone pierced their little space.

"Is that me or you?" Iris asked lazily.

Barry shot up to retrieve the object, "Me. I have to go. Wait for me?"

"I can't,” Iris replied, sitting up reluctantly. “Do you mind running me uptown?"

"At this time of night, what for?"

She wanted to go to Eddie’s to talk him down, to beg him to call off his dogs on the task force, and to break things off with him for good. Instead of revealing all of this she simply said, "Got something I have to take care of."

"So you won't be here when I get back?" he asked.

"Probably not. But I wouldn't want you too spoiled. I'll be around, Bear."

 


End file.
